


It had to be real

by Isilloth



Series: Feanorian week 2017 [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 07:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10382016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilloth/pseuds/Isilloth
Summary: Maedhros soon after he was rescued.Written for first day of Feanorian Week.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Maitimo, Nelyo - Maedhros  
> Makalaurë - Maglor  
> Findekáno - Fingon

At first everything seemed to be blurred. Pain in his right hand, pain of his head, pain of wound on his cheek... Everything was hidden under thick veil of pain. Later, he he heard voices.  
'Maitimo, are you hear me?' Melodic voice, full of concern. It had to be Makalaurë.  
He slowly opened his eyes. His brother and Findekáno bent over him. He saw he was in some room, with other people around, by the couldn’t focus on anything.  
‘Where… Where am I?’ he spoke with difficulty, his dry throat unaccustomed for words.  
‘You’re save, Maitimo. In our camp,’ Findekáno said.  
He had feeling something was strange, and his cousin not suppose to be there, but his minds were blurred. All his memories scattered like broken glass. Pain and torture in Angband, fire, insane laugh of his father, chains on his hands, begging for death, Findekáno’s voice, his face… And pain, overwhelming pain. He lost consciousness before he manage to say anything else.

* * * 

He felt different. His thoughts were clearer, and he started to remember everything what’s happened. Still, he couldn’t tell how it’s happened Findekáno was there. But, if he lied down in clean bed, it couldn’t be ghost send by Morgoth to torment him. Pain in right arm reminded him of way he was rescued. It had to be real. No matter the costs, he was free.  
‘Maitimo? Maitimo, are you there?’ It was Findekáno’s soft voice.  
‘Are we alone?’ he asked, barely controlling his stiffen tongue.  
‘Yes. Should I call someone? Makalaurë is there.’  
Maitimo shook his head.  
‘You saved me, Finno. I left you on the other side of the Great Sea, and you… You saved me. Thank you.’  
‘You need more than Black Foe and burnt ships to get rid of me, Nelyo.’


End file.
